Distant Horizons
by Blackreach
Summary: Runa Fair-Shield has seen too much to think life is as fair as her name. Even after sadistic Grelod is killed, tragedy still strikes. Lucia is killed, and Aventus runs away to avenge her murder, leaving Runa to travel after him in hopes of saving him from his grief-clouded decisions. In the world of Skyrim, suffering is never far from its citizens, and nothing is as it seems.
1. Humble Beginnings

**17th of Frostfall, 4E 190**

In the dead of night, Honorhall Orphanage stood as dark as the shadows that danced in the thin torchlight held by the two wandering guards. A burly silhouette perched on the mossy stone wall of Riften, sharp eyes glittering in the faint moonlight. The exhausted guards paid no attention to statue-like silhouette as they made their rounds, minds thinking of the future. When the torches left the silhouette in darkness, the illusion broke. The figure moved, reaching down to help another shadowed figure up to the wall. Together, the two were statues and watched the guards until they were hidden by sleeping buildings. Sliding down the wall and landing with soft thud on the leaf-littered ground, the burly shadow darted in alleys, a thin shadow in tow. Soft steps barely made the wooden bridges creak as the shadows dodged dying lanterns. Thieves and beggars alike, hidden in the darkest corners of the corrupted city, passed off the shadows and soft noises as tricks of light and a simple breeze.

The two shadows stood at the entrance of the orphanage, staring up at the sign that slept in darkness. The thin shadow held a bundle of blankets protectively, tightening the grip around the bundle as time passed by. The burly shadow's glittering eyes darted this way and that, on the lookout for anything threatening. The two stood in silence for a moment with quiet breaths, savoring the moment.

The burly shadow finally broke the silence, turning towards the thin figure. "Can I… hold her before…?" a rough voice rumbled from behind the mask, almost silent in the dead of night.

The thin shadow relinquished the hold on the blankets, carefully handing it over. "Be quick. We shouldn't linger."

The burly shadow stood silently, gazing down at that warm bundle. In one smooth movement, the shadow placed the small bundle in the front of the orphanage. The thin shadow looked away as the burly shadow raised a fist to the door, pausing briefly. Glittering eyes glanced towards the thin shadow, soft and loving. "Say goodbye."

The thin shadow placed a hand over the mask, removing it. Bending over, one kiss was given on the forehead of a young girl sleeping in the bundle of blankets. A note was tucked in the folds of the blankets. The thin shadow's lips parted in a small, sorrowful smile. "Goodbye, my fair Runa. Sweet dreams." The mask was slipped back on. "I love you."

With two loud, forceful hits to the door, the shadowy figures became the night once again.

Moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a drowsy but quite annoyed dark haired woman. She glanced around, squinting in the darkness. She disappeared back inside the dark building, reappearing with a lit candle. She squinted again, looking for the reason of the hard knocking. Stepping forward, her foot connected with the bundle of blankets. Sighing, she step back and shut her eyes and offered a silent prayer to any of the Divines that were listening—no more abandoned children appearing on this doorstep as long as she was alive. Snuffing out the candle, she hastily put it back and scooped up the child, locking the door as she went back inside for the final time that night.

Inside the orphanage, a dying fire crackled softly, letting out just enough light to see where one was walking. There were four beds in the large room, all unoccupied. The woman carried the young child to one of the beds, unwrapping her gently. She took the note and put it in a pocket of her shorts, reminding herself to read it tomorrow. She huffed as she tucked the blonde girl in furs and the blankets she had come in, leaning back and placing a hand on her swollen belly. She had to stay strong for her own child. She would not leave it alone in this cruel world. She checked the young girl's forehead, relived to find no fever. The child breathed evenly and peacefully. The woman brushed blonde locks out of the girl's eyes. She smiled softly down at the abandoned child before retiring to her room.

In the morning, she unfolded the note and learned the child's name. _Runa Fair-Shield._ She folded the note back up and tucked it away in her drawers. Resting a hand on her child-filled belly, she decided she would raise Runa like her own. She would have two children to look after, once her own child was born. Those thoughts made her happy, and she cheerfully, yet quietly, hummed her way out of her room. It was time to make introductions for her new daughter.

* * *

 **3rd of Sun's Dawn, 4E 191**

Blood pooled through the fur blankets and hay, dripping onto the floor. A newly born baby boy screamed in a young Imperial girl's arms. An older Nord woman with graying hair grumbled under her breath as she wiped the blood off of her hands on one of the soiled blankets.

"Shut that brat up and clean up this mess," the woman snapped at the frozen Imperial girl. "Call in the guards if you must."

Tears were running down the young girl's cheeks as she attempted to choke back her sobs. "Y-y-yes, Gr-Grelod."

The old woman grunted and disappeared into her large room, shutting the door tightly behind her. The crying baby, the young girl, and the still bleeding body of a young woman were left behind. The Imperial girl broke down into sobs as she transferred the baby boy to the crook of one of her arms and attempted to cover the body with blood soaked furs. Once the body was covered, she could not take it anymore. She collapsed with her back to the wall, facing the bed, and cried. Her sobs caused the boy to cry even more. They cried together, knowing they had both lost something dear to them.

Runa had been there for all of it. She had hid a small, dirty, dusty closet once the screaming had begun. It had quieted, briefly, and Runa poked her head out to watch as life was taken from the painted red woman and given to the now screaming, wet bundle. She recognized that woman on that bed. The one that had spoken to her kindly, fed her, given her a nice bed to sleep in. That woman comforted when she cried. Runa believed that woman was her mother, but the woman never said that she was. Runa wondered why the furs were red and why there was so much crying. She wondered if the woman could breathe underneath those furs. Runa oftentimes would pull the furs over her head and find it hard to catch her breath after a long time under them, so she would stick her nose out and breathe in the crisp air outside.

Runa glanced over at the crying girl and the crying baby. She watched them for a little while before becoming bored, and slightly afraid, so she ducked back inside of the dusty, tiny room. She shut the door and sat in the darkness, thinking up games to play until the crying settled down. She would show the new games to the woman after she woke up from her nap under the red furs. Runa grinned to herself as she gathered some rotting hay pieces. The woman would be so happy to learn about Runa's new games!

* * *

 **22nd of Evening Star, 4E 193**

Runa played outside, alone and free but a little chilled, until Constance Michel called her in. The young Nord ran inside, fearing the belt from Grelod if the older woman found her outside just a second after her hour was up. Samuel cooed from Constance's arms, sucking on his little thumb, as Runa rushed inside as fast as her little legs would allow her. She looked up at the two year old, quickly, before averting her gaze when she saw angry red scrapes on his arms. Even he was not safe from Grelod's wrath; he would be hit if he cried too much and Constance was unable to shut him up before Grelod snapped.

Constance placed Samuel on the bed. Runa sat beside the young boy and played with him gently as Constance made dinner. A knock at the door interrupted their quiet, fear-free moments. Runa held Samuel close, watching with wide eyes as Constance softly opened the door. A young, dark-haired Nord boy smiled and introduced himself as Sorri. He explained he was an orphan, and he heard that this was the only orphanage in Skryim. Constance hummed nervously before letting the teenager in. She fixed an extra plate, and they ate together. Runa loved Sorri's cheerfulness. It made her feel light inside. She grinned around Sorri until her cheeks hurt. She kept smiling. She even laughed a couple times.

Sorri was gone by the end of the week. Runa cried, her smiles and happy feelings crushed out of her. She missed her friend and his happiness. She was given extra lashes.

* * *

 **3rd of Sun's Dawn, 4E 196**

Five years ago, Runa was barely a year old. Five years old, to this day, Samuel had been born. His mother had died.

Constance Michel would always light an extra candle on this day. When Runa would see three candles on the dining table instead of two, she would send a tiny prayer up to the Divines, wishing Mavia a safe and peaceful time up in the stars even though she had not known the Imperial woman for as long as Constance had. She would always wonder if Samuel noticed that extra candle, and if he thought of his mother often. Grelod the Kind never noticed the extra candle, which was for the best. If the angry caretaker learned of this small act, she would beat Runa and Samuel for 'wasting resources,' and Constance would attempt to put a stop to the beatings. A regular occurrence that Runa hated. She hated Grelod the Kind with her whole, small being. Sometimes the terror and hatred she felt towards the old Nord woman would make her shake and cry, silently, of course. Grelod should never hear crying. Crying meant punishment.

Samuel was tucked into bed as dusk began to fall, burrowed underneath furs in his small bed that had once held his mother's body. Grelod had fallen asleep hours ago, her door shut tight and locked. Constance Michel was still awake, cleaning the dining table and putting out the candles. Runa could not sleep, so she stayed awake, helping the gentle Imperial woman clean up after dinner. She brushed crumbs of bread off the table and swept them into a corner with a broom.

A heavy knock came to the door. Runa immediately glanced towards Samuel, relived that he slept soundly. She followed Constance towards the door, hiding behind the Imperial's skirts. A gust of cold air made Runa grasp the dress tighter, and she shut her eyes as Constance spoke to whoever stood at the door.

"Yes?" Constance sighed heavily.

"Found this kid by 'imself. Prolly a orp'an. Calls 'imself Hroar," a gruff voice, muffled slightly, spoke tiredly.

"Ah…" Constance's dress shifted in Runa's fists. "Thank you. I'll take him. Come, Hroar."

Runa peeked out to see a brown haired Nord boy, staring at his feet as Constance gently pulled him towards her. A Riften guard, face masked by a helmet, nodded and turned around as Constance shut the door carefully.

She gathered her dress, carefully peeling it away from Runa's fists. The young girl stared at her new roommate, trying to catch his gaze. His eyes remained fixed on the floor. Runa frowned, looking up at Constance for reassurance. The Imperial woman smiled sweetly and slowly walked Hroar to an unoccupied bed, tucking him in and kissing his cheek. Runa noticed that he was crying. She hoped he would learn crying was a bad thing to do.

* * *

 **12th of Hearthfire, 4E 199**

Runa awoke to hushed voices and the sound of a door closing. She rolled over in her bed, opening her eyes to the dim light of dawn filtering into the room. Hroar and Samuel stood side by side near the dining room table, whispering to each other. She sighed and shut her eyes, trying to get back to sleep since Grelod would soon be up and yelling at them to finish their chores. When the door closed, not gently, Runa opened her eyes with annoyance. She slid out of bed and padded over to the whispering boys to see what was so interesting. Before them stood Constance, holding the hand of a new arrival: a filthy, young boy with a mop of dark hair. The Imperial woman smiled at the three orphans before her.

"Children, this is Aventus Aretino," she introduced the boy. "His mother died recently, so be kind to him." He looked up from the floor, his dark eyes hardened with some indistinguishable emotion. Runa felt vaguely chilled by his expression, and she noticed Hroar shift slightly behind Samuel. Constance continued with introductions, gesturing to each child as she spoke their names. "This is Samuel, Hroar, and Runa Fair-Shield. I am Constance Michel, and Grelod the Kind is the… caretaker of Honorhall. She's currently asleep. I'll wash you up, and you can meet her when she wakes."

"Don't be bad, or she'll beat you senseless," Runa muttered, directed more towards herself than anyone.

Aventus clearly heard her, his eyes widening at her words. Hroar flinched and Samuel stared at the wooden floor, mumbling something about his chores. Hroar quickly followed him towards the cleaning supplies. Constance smiled thinly, a silent warning as well as sorrow in her eyes, before she ushered Aventus out of the orphanage towards the wash bucket. Before the door closed, Aventus shot another look towards Runa. She ignored him and wandered over towards the dead fire, crouching and poking the ashes with her finger. She debated how fast she was and if she could run outside and grab firewood without Grelod waking and discovering her outside, alone. The headmistress's door unlocked loudly. Runa brushed ashes off of her hand and stood, heading towards the lonely broom in the corner. Later, perhaps, she would risk her chances. She would not give a bad example for the new arrival so soon.

* * *

 **1st of Morning Star, 4E 200**

When Runa begrudgingly opened the door at the knock, she blinked in surprise as a tall, fully armored person stood at the entrance with a light-haired Imperial boy standing in front of her. She looked at them without much emotion except her blink, first observing the furs and metals wrapped around the armored person then switching her gaze towards the younger boy. He seemed as if he was around her age, the light of joy still dancing in his brown eyes. Her blue gaze swept over them once more before she called, quietly, for Constance Michel. When the kindly Imperial woman appeared, Runa disappeared back into the orphanage to sit on her bed and watch Samuel help Hroar finish up cleaning the fireplace. Aventus sat silently in a dark corner as usual, hugging his knees to his chest. Grelod, thankfully, had decided to take a walk around Riften, and the moments that she was gone were ones of near-peace.

"Hi, this's Honorhall?" came a smooth, beautiful voice from the entrance. Runa's attention shifted from the boys towards the entrance at the sound of it, wanting to listen to more of the lovely sound.

"Yes, ma'am," Constance spoke faintly.

"Ah, good, I couldn't see the sign, y'see. Do you mind if I leave this little guy with you for a while?"

"Um…"

"I'll come back and get 'im, don't you worry. His name's Francois Beaufort."

There was a moment of silence broken by the child's voice. "Bye, mummy! I'll always be waiting for you."

The smooth voice had a faint, guarded tone to it. "I'll get you soon, Francois. Don't worry."

Runa knew, at those last words, that the fully armored lady lied. She would never come back for her son. The young Imperial was being abandoned. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Samuel watching at her. She turned towards him, exchanging a knowing look. Aventus watched their silent conversation, understanding dawning on his features. He burrowed deeper into the darkness of his corner, hiding his face behind his arms.

Runa understood the want to hide away from the cruel world. All the orphans had been abandoned in one way or another—either by death or dumped on the steps of Oblivion-cursed Honorhall. It was different to hear abandonment verbally and watch it happen. Many orphans had come and go in the ten years Runa had lived here, but they had all been dropped off by the guards or wandered in by themselves; none had been abandoned on the doorstep of Honorhall by the ones they called mother and father. All those orphans had all reached sixteen years, and left. Thrown straight in the world that had first rejected them.

Constance came around the corner with the happy, blond Imperial. She introduced all the orphans one by one, and they nodded at the new arrival. None told him the truth. They had not wanted to crack his cheerful smile. Happiness lacked here at Honorhall. They all missed that light, beautiful feeling. They missed it dearly.

* * *

 **13th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 200**

Grelod's screaming jolted Runa awake. Fearing the belt, she hurriedly shot out of bed and dressed for the day. Samuel, already awake, was attempting to calm Hroar's crying by holding his hand over the other boy's mouth. Francois, quiet anxiety in his eyes, sat at the edge of his bed as he watched the situation. Grelod the Kind was not standing at the entrance, screaming at the orphans. Since she was not in the room, they were safe. For now. Runa paused her rushed dressing, slipping on only one of her tattered socks as she directed her attention towards Grelod's voice.

"Get her out of here!" the headmistress screamed. Runa imagined spit flying out of her mouth, hitting a faceless Nord, and the Nord wiped off the spit with disgust. She blinked when the daydream ended. "I will not be taking any more of those useless orphans! I have enough I tell you, enough!"

Someone touched Runa's shoulder, and she spun around to see Aventus standing behind her solemnly. He looked past her, not meeting her gaze. When he moved towards the door, she slipped in front of him; together, they peeked around the doorframe at the screaming headmistress and the open door. At the entrance stood a guard with a child—possibly a year younger than Runa. The poor girl's lovely face was dirty and streaked with tears as she ducked behind the guard. Grelod kept screaming how sick she was of orphans until the guard promptly pulled the door shut in her face. Runa knew Grelod's anger would soon be turned against the orphans she housed, so she hurried away to start her chores before the headmistress could beat her for watching.

Aventus was not quick enough, and Samuel could not stop Hroar's crying in time. They all received extra beatings.

* * *

 **30th of Midyear, 4E 201**

Under the cover of darkness and stars, Aventus ran away. Now, Runa was locked in the room, bleeding. Tomorrow, it would be Samuel's turn in the room with the belt. Then, Hroar's. Then, Francois's. She felt utterly defeated as she shut her eyes, trying to ignore the pain as well as the awkward position of being chained to the wall. All she could do was hope, hope that Aventus could contact the Dark Brotherhood. Hope they could be saved.


	2. Innocence Lost

**17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

Hroar's muffled sobs had kept Runa up during the night. No matter how hard she pressed furs in her ears, she could hear him. As the night stretched on and no one attempted to quiet the crying boy, she started to wonder if she had begun to hallucinate the constant sniffling, or if her hearing was just better than anybody else's. She tried hard to lull herself to sleep. There had been a quiet scuffle outside, between a thief and a guard, that she had heard briefly; Hroar finally quieted just as the guards yelled at the thief to stop. He awoke with a small gasp, and his sobs continued after a small pause. Runa had given up trying to sleep long before the faint colors of dawn slipped through cracks in the building and dotted the opposite walls. She waited for the sounds of the boys dragging themselves out of bed before she joined them.

Hroar moved sluggishly without much energy as he pulled on clean socks and his worn shoes; he kept his eyes away from any of the other orphans, but Runa noticed the reddish tint to his eyes. Samuel, as perceptive as ever, noticed Hroar's lack of liveliness and moved to intercept the boy as they walked towards the storage closet. Runa ignored them as she grabbed her own half-empty bucket and half-dirty rag and set to cleaning off a stain on the dining table Grelod had screamed about the day before. They cleaned in silence, flinching at the sound of Grelod's door opening. Constance must have accidentally slept in, as unlikely as that was, or was in the town on errands. Runa narrowed her eyes in concentration as she scrubbed and silently hoped the kind Imperial would be back soon to lessen Grelod's beatings.

Grelod walked heavily, anger in her steps, towards the table and hit Runa's arm with her belt which sent the young child scrambling as far away from the old hag as possible; Grelod continued towards the small kitchen without pausing, grabbed the last of the cold rabbit from her dinner last night, and sat down at the table. Her hand, touching the area Runa had been cleaning, came away slightly damp. Murder in her eyes, she turned on the cowering girl and beat her with the belt, breathing out curses with every breath.

"You knew I was eating breakfast soon. You _knew_ , and yet you didn't dry the table! Useless girl! Gutter trash!" Grelod the Kind snarled, pushing Runa down to the floor.

Tears escaped Runa's eyes, but she ducked her head and crawled away as Grelod grumbled back to her seat and finished her cold rabbit. Warm, strong hands helped her up, not moving when she flinched away for a moment. She looked up at Samuel's sorrowful, yet strong, brown gaze and blinked her thanks. The Imperial shifted his head slightly and went back to his sweeping. Runa hid behind the beds until Grelod finished her meal and ushered the children out with an angry bark. Grelod, seeing Runa walking towards the open door, pushed her back.

"Stay here. Don't move," the headmistress spoke with annoyance in her tone. Runa obediently waited as Grelod disappeared into her private room and came back with a tattered dress. "I can't believe I have to waste this on you."

Runa exchanged her current, slightly bloody dress with the new one without a word. It felt strange against her sensitive wounds, but she refused to allow a hint of pain to show on her face as she trudged outside with the boys. She stood slightly away from Samuel in one of the darker corners of the yard as Hroar and Francois examined the boring grasses that had grown in the yard throughout the year. Grelod stood near the orphanage, arms crossed and the permeant scowl on her face. Runa enjoyed the chill that could burrow down into her bones in the coldest months; she loved the crisp air Riften had to offer, even if the smell was always an undertone. She never allowed herself to smile as the breeze picked up and scattered the leaves in the air. She watched them dance, unhindered, and wondered if she would ever be that free.

When Constance returned from her errands, Grelod ended their time outside. No one complained, despite knowing their time had been cut short. They sat down for their one meal a day, quiet and sad. Grelod complained loudly about the orphans to Constance who frowned and sent the children gentle, loving looks. Hroar hungrily swallowed his food down, staring forlornly at his now empty plate and sent repeated glances towards Runa. She ignored him, ignored everyone, and continued to pick at her food. Samuel ate his food delicately, savoring his bites, and Francois copied him after a moment's hesitation. Once Grelod had finished, she ordered Constance to clean up the plates.

"Now, children," she began her speech, latching her angry stare on them one by one. They all knew these next words by heart. "Those who shirk their duties will get an extra beating. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Grelod," they chanted as one. Runa stared at the floor, flinching when Grelod snapped her fingers.

"What do you all say, to me? To the one who takes care of you? To the one who has saved you from that horrible, horrible world out there until you come of age?"

They spoke without feeling behind their words. "We love you, Grelod. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for saving us."

Runa had always thought Grelod had an ugly grin. "Be good children and go finish your chores."

They all turned to finish their never ending list of useless, useless chores. Sweeping never ended. Dusting never ended. Mopping never ended. Cleaning up after themselves never ended. Sometimes, Runa would just clean one spot over and over without Grelod noticing anything. That was how clean they kept the place with their constant assigned duties. Runa wished for something more. She was sick of this place.

"And one more thing!" Grelod's sudden shout brought the orphans scurrying back towards the headmistress fearfully. Runa realized the old hag had forgotten the largest part of her speech. "I will hear no more talk of adoptions! None of you riff-raff is getting adopted. Ever! Nobody needs you, nobody wants you. That, my darlings, is why you're here. Why you will always be here, until the day you come of age and get thrown into that wide, horrible world. Now, what do you all say?"

"We love you, Grelod. Thank you for your kindness."

The ugly grin returned. Runa bit her tongue. "That's better. Now scurry off, my little guttersnipes."

Grelod retired to her room to nap. Constance hurried over to Runa with clean bandages. She wrapped the fresh wounds on the young girl's arms before removing the old bandages on her back and checking the progress on the old wounds.

"You'll have… scars, Runa, but you're healing nicely," Constance murmured, not wanting to wake Grelod. "You heal quite fast. I don't think you need these bandages on your back anymore."

Runa nodded her wordless thanks and smoothed out her dress, feeling lighter without the extra wrappings. Constance rose and went to check on the other children. Hroar had a nasty cut on his thigh as well as a couple of scrapes on his back. Samuel had a couple of new lashes on his neck, shoulders, back, and chest, but they were shallow. Francois hated his scars and tried to hide them the best he could. Constance understood, so she often gave him longer sleeved shirts and pants. Runa envied how the boys wore pants, and she detested how Grelod forced her to wear dresses, emphasizing how girls should never wear pants because it was not lady-like. Runa, in all honesty, had no idea what 'lady-like' meant in a world such as Skyrim. She watched armored women walk the streets; she watched feminine thieves steal and injure guards; she watched beautiful women in silk dresses and fine clothing stab a thief into submission. She often wondered if Grelod had her wear dresses in order to control her spirit.

Grelod could never completely control her. Runa knew that. Sometimes, to prove that Grelod was not in complete control of her, she would steal seven golden coins from Grelod's room. Always seven—no more, no less. Just shy of ten coins, but more than five. Grelod always, always tried to pin the theft on her, but Constance would always pay it back. Grelod would threaten jail time, but Runa had never once ended up in a jail cell. Those little acts would put the spirit back in the young Nord girl, but the beatings would always take it right back out. Another never ending cycle she was stuck in.

The night came fast, despite how bored Rune felt without anything to do. She went to bed after telling Hroar he needed to stop his sobbing or Grelod would find him. She could still hear him crying, even if it was softer. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped her threats had not hurt him. She did not want to hurt one of her only friends in this cruel world. She fell asleep without noticing the lack of soft sniffles.

Something on the range of her hearing—something odd and out of place—ripped her out of the dreamless sleep and back into reality. Laying on her side, she opened her eyes to watch the entrance of the orphanage, not shifting position. To her surprise, a lithe figure appeared in the dim light in front of dining table. There, the shadow paused, possibly checking to see if any child was awake. Runa swiftly shut her eyes and evened out her breathing. She listened intently—she held her breath without realizing it—until the soft, nearly silent steps padded past her and towards Grelod's room. With a soft click that almost seemed painfully loud in the silence, the steps became muffled and silent. Without thinking, she rolled quietly out of bed and peeked through the small opening in Grelod's door.

A dagger's sharp edge flash brightly in the dim moonlight filtering into the room. Grelod lay sleeping, oblivious. The leather-armored shadow stood in the thin moonlight, red eyes glittering faintly against dark gray skin, holding the dagger above the old hag's neck. Something—Runa guessed lips—moved under the cowl that covered most of the figure's face and head. The dagger hovered and seemed to shake, the soon-to-be murderer taking all the time in the world. Runa stood in the shadows of the half-open door, frozen and completely enthralled.

A hand covered Grelod's mouth at the same time the sharp, jet black dagger sliced into her neck. Grelod's body jerked involuntarily for a couple heartbeats, stopping. The wet dagger disappeared into a sheath on the assassin's belt. Runa could not move. The assassin stepped backwards and turned red eyes upon the witness, steps faltering slightly at the sight of the young girl. Runa's eyes went huge as she stared back at those red eyes, those blood red eyes of a dark elf. She remembered Brand-Shei, a dark elf in the marketplace, had similar eyes. His eyes were warm, kind. These eyes, however, were darker. Terrifying. Her chest warmed uncomfortably with anxiety and terror chilled her to the bone. She stared up at the looming figure, unsure and petrified.

The assassin reached down after a moment. Runa, her fear mounting, flinched and covered her head. Nothing happened. Frantic heartbeats later, she finally gained the courage to look up. The assassin crouched silently near her, observing the bandages on Runa's arms. The warm red eyes, less daunting than before, met Runa's frightened hazel gaze. When a steel dagger was revealed, the young girl knew her life was about to end. She could scream, she realized, and wake up all the other orphans and Constance, but they were incapable to defeating this professional assassin. Four beaten, tired orphans, void of any happiness, and a fragile Imperial woman who cried and panicked when anything scary happened, against a trained killer, would never work. So, Runa kept her mouth closed and shut her eyes in acceptance. She would die as the only witness to this assassin's kill, but she would save the lives of all the sleeping bodies behind her. She held her breath, clenched her fists at her sides, and waited.

Time stretched on. Runa waited. When she needed to breathe, she took small, quiet breaths. She kept her eyes closed, her fists clenched at her sides. She kept waiting for the sound of the blade swishing through the air to end of her life. Gradually, she noticed the lack of the assassin's breath near her, and she cracked one eye open. An empty space stood in front of her. She spun around frantically and hurried over to the nearest bed, leaning over to look at Samuel's sleeping face. His eyes were closed, peaceful, and he breathed evenly. Runa made sure to check every bed. Francois and Hroar slept nearly as quietly as Samuel, even though Hroar had dried tears on his cheeks and his pillow was still damp. Constance's door was closed, creaking when Runa pushed it open.

The kind woman blinked sleepily at the child in her doorway. She yawned and sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. "Runa," she murmured, "why are you awake?"

Runa shuffled backwards, gesturing for Constance to follow her. "I… I need to show you something," she said without whispering.

Constance flinched and told her to keep her voice down. Runa shook the boys awake and led the other four residences of Honorhall to Grelod's open room. She pushed the door open and walked in. The others immediately hesitated at the doorframe.

"Runa, please get out of there," Constance pleaded. The boys exchanged frightened looks and nodded in agreement.

The young Nord girl smiled at them, earning a couple of raised eyebrows. She opened one of the doors wider and gestured again. "Please," she almost begged. "I have—I found a surprise."

Samuel was the first to step forward into the forbidden room. The moment he took in the blood on Grelod's throat and the odd angle the body was positioned, he broke into another grin. He grabbed Francois's and Hroar's hands and dragged them in, laughing out loud. The two boys stared at the dead hag and cheered, smiling their faces in half. Constance's expression grew more horrified and more panicked as she stood at the doorframe. Cautiously, she peeked around the cheering orphans and at Grelod the Kind's bed. Runa watched the terror replace the moment of confusion, watched her mouth open, watched her eyes widen and her skin pale in the moonlight.

The screams of Constance did little to drown out the cheers of the boys. The kind Imperial rushed out of Honorhall with surprising speed, crying and panicking and screaming. As Constance ran out screaming, Runa closed Honorhall's entrance doors, since in the panic they had been left open. She ran back to the celebrating boys and joined in on their fun. They raided Grelod's cabinets and spilled everything onto the floor with thuds and thunks; they ripped the dead woman's hanging dresses into shreds. Francois used what little magicka he knew, produced a pitiful fire spell, and lit the fireplace so Runa could burn Grelod's only book, The Pig Children. Burning the book gave Francois the idea to burn everything Grelod owned. The children piled as much as they could into that roaring fire—careful not to burn down the entire building—and sat around the warmth with grins on their lips. So giddy and caught up in her joy, Runa could barely remember guards storming in to haul Grelod's body away. No investigations were started. The orphans went to sleep for the first time in years, possibly in their whole life, without fear. They were light. Happy.

Under Runa's pillow, she touched cold metal. Hugging the steel dagger near her chest, she closed her eyes and told the stars to thank that assassin. She slipped the gift under her bed. A special secret. Only hers.

* * *

 **26th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

Aventus returned to a now cheerful orphanage. The moment he stepped through the door, he was greeted by hugs and cheers and thank yous of all sorts. Samuel hugged his dear friend, patted him on the back, and caught him up on the current times. Hroar demonstrated how much food he could eat every day, choking; Samuel had to help him spit up all the food lodged in this throat. Francois shyly showed Aventus his new magicka abilities; he could now hold a powerful jet of flame for ten seconds as well as produce a freezing stream of ice for three. Runa practiced with her dagger every chance she could, in secret, so she reported nothing new on her end, other than the happiness Aventus and his assassin brought them.

Aventus introduced Sofie, a young orphan he met in Windhelm. He had offered to help her to Riften, where she would get warm meals and able sleep in a real bed without having to pick sellable flowers in the snow. She accepted. The current residence accepted her with cheerful smiles. Even though Runa was happy to welcome a new orphan into their ranks, she almost envied Sofie who would never know the abuse the others went through. She knew Sofie had gone through her own abuse—abandoned to sleep in the freezing streets of Windhelm—yet she still held jealousy in her heart.

Constance had already planned to have Grelod's room built into a home for other orphans to sleep in; she also removed Grelod's old laws of refusing orphans and adoptions. Throughout the night, once Aventus returned and Sofie joined them, she worked on writing fliers to alert the citizens of Skyrim that they could make a difference for a child, that they could be a hero in a young child's life.

* * *

 **10th of Hearthfire, 4E 201**

Constance opened the door, spoke in hushed tones, and closed the door against the cooling air. Alone, Runa sat at the dining table, observing. She quietly finished the last of her bread just as Constance faced her, another orphan holding her hand. He had dark hair and dark skin with dark eyes bright with exhaustion and hidden strength. Runa chewed as she glanced over him. He met her gaze without flinching, dropping his hand out of Constance's. He strode over to the young Nord and stuck out a hand.

"I'm Alesan," he introduced himself, "from Dawnstar."

Runa blinked, slightly startled by his straight-forwardness. She swallowed and gripped his hand, which he shook with surprising strength. "I'm Runa Fair-Shield. From honorable-hall Riften."

The boy chuckled, making Runa grin. She had a feeling he would be a good friend.

* * *

 **27th of Hearthfire, 4E 201**

The door opened with a gust of wind; Constance kept it unlocked now so adventurers had no keys in their way of adoptions. Two Nords, obviously related, stepped in, holding the hands of a young girl. Constance hurried over to them with a friendly smile.

"Welcome to Honorhall Orphanage, friends. What can I assist you with today?" the aging Imperial asked.

One of the Nords gestured for the other to speak. The chosen one sighed, released the girl's hand, and patted her on the head. "Found an orphan in Whiterun, and she didn't have a home. I was—we were hoping you'd give her a proper one."

Constance's smile faltered slightly, but she replied brightly, "Of course! She'll be safe with us." She crouched down, looking the new orphan in the eyes. "What are you called, sweetie?"

The girl hummed to herself. "Lucia," she murmured, looking anywhere but Constance. Her dark eyes found Runa's gaze, but she quickly looked away.

"Welcome to Honorhall, Lucia. You'll fit in well here."

Lucia stared at the ground with furrowed brows as Constance bid farewell to the travelling Nords. "You only said that 'cause I'm a orphan 'nd so is everyone else," she muttered to no one. "Stupid."

Runa glanced around to check if anyone else had heard, but she seemed as if she was the only one. She shrugged and pretended Lucia never spoken. Aventus took it upon himself to show the new girl around. Runa just hoped Lucia would not become a handful with her resilient personality.

Not even an hour after Lucia's intrusion, a dirt-faced Nordic man and a young Breton boy walked into the orphanage. Constance was out running errands, so Samuel stepped up to the males. He put on his friendliest smile—which made Runa snicker—and welcomed them in.

"Looking to adopt one of us, mister?" he asked, failing to keep out the hope in his voice.

The Nord shook his head and patted the Breton boy on his shoulder. "This is Blaise. He's—he lost his family and had been living on our farm, but we haven't been able to provide for him good enough since we have a child of our own. I was—we were hoping he could come here. To live."

Samuel's smile became forced, and Runa narrowed her eyes in distaste at the Nord's words. Her hand went under her pillow and touched the cool metal of her dagger, letting the heat from her palm warm it up as Samuel dealt with the inconsiderate Nord and the poor child.

"Of—of course we… he can join us," Samuel nodded, holding out his hand towards the boy. "Welcome to Honorhall, Blaise. I'm Samuel."

The dumb Nord smiled with gratitude. Runa stuck her tongue out; only Hroar noticed, and he laughed loudly. Blaise bid quick farewells to the Nord as Samuel shut the door. Every orphan currently under Honorhall's roof during this time of day introduced themselves to Blaise, feeling his pain. The pain of being the one filled with misfortune; the one picked last.

* * *

 **Closing months of 4E 201**

Orphans came and went. Only a few were memorable.

Twin sisters known as Britte and Sissel were adopted almost the same day they arrived at Honorhall by an aging mage. Their quick departure left a bad taste in Runa's mouth and hatred in her heart. A little while later, she heard that Britte had died. She felt no remorse.

Sond and Bottar, two feral boys, put up a fight the moment the guards released them into Honorhall. In a flurry of jabs with a knife that hit no one, they fled into the wilds of Skyrim. Runa figured that if they could escape Riften, they would have a chance in the world. She never saw them return.

* * *

 **12th of Rain's Hand, 4E 203**

When Runa entered Honorhall after wandering the town—and secretly practicing with her dagger—she was met by two men, a Nord and a Breton, exiting with the happiest smiles on their faces. The blue-eyed Nord beamed down at her, but her emotionless expression did not waver in the slightest.

"Runa!" Hroar's voice, with barely contained excitement, came from behind the men. The boy named after a lion had his long mane of brown hair unusually brushed and untangled. His smile nearly split his face in half. "I've been adopted!"

At first, his words refused to register. She stood there, in the way of the men, blinking. Her heart beat frantically as she continue to look at his joyful grin, his sparkling eyes, his neat and tidy hair. She could not find words. Her heart ached.

Hroar's happiness seem to pause for a second, his smile awkward. He quickly recovered, pulling shyly smiling Blaise into a hug. "Me 'n' Blaise are going to have a real family!"

Runa knew she needed to be happy for her fellow—no, they could not be called orphans anymore—for the boys, but her heart ached with loneliness and jealousy. She looked at the cheerful Nord and Breton couple. Perhaps if she had not been out in the city. Perhaps if she had been lounging around inside, like Hroar and Blaise, they would have chosen her. A strong, quick girl like her, instead of quiet Blaise and loud Hroar.

She forced a small, weak smile, and stepped out of their way. "Goodbye," she whispered hoarsely.

The family left, happy and carefree. Runa entered the only home she had ever known and crawled into bed. She hugged her dagger to her chest, thinking of the Dunmer assassin who had saved them. Left them to feel lonely when their friends were adopted. Left the unchosen ones with jealousy to fester in young hearts.

At least when Grelod was alive, they had no reason to be jealous. They could only fear physical pain. Emotional pain was something completely different.


	3. Honor Thy Family

**6th of Second Seed, 4E 206**

Runa woke to sobbing. Hroar was crying again, and terror gripped her when she saw the soft dawn light moving into brighter daylight. She shot up in bed, looking towards Grelod's door. It was open. Briefly, she wondered why she had not heard screaming and why the crying had not been stopped. She jumped out of bed hurriedly, earning a surprised, yet teary, look from Sofie. That made Runa pause. Memories flooded back to her.

Grelod was dead, murdered by an assassin who gifted Runa a steel dagger. Constance ran the orphanage now. Hroar and Blaise had been adopted. The orphans were no longer nine or ten years old—they had grown into teenagers of fifteen and sixteen. Constance had explained they could leave Honorhall if they wanted to at this age, or they could wait until they were eighteen. Runa, having only known Honorhall and Riften, had decided to wait until she was eighteen.

Her hazel gaze darted around the room, finding the source of the soft crying. It was not Hroar. Francois sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands as he cried freely yet quietly. Sofie made no sound from beside him as her tears ran down her face. Samuel was rubbing Francois's back gently, murmuring softly to him, but Runa could see sadness in his posture and his eyes. Alesan was nowhere to be seen, as usual. She glanced towards the dining room table, freezing in shock.

Aventus stood beside it, his hands gripping the edges of the table with suppressed anger and sorrow. His dark hair, long enough to reach his shoulders, hid his expression from Runa, but she knew by the shaking of his shoulders he was crying—with anger or sadness, she knew not. On the table, laid out gently as if she was sleeping, was Lucia. Her dress, newly bought just a week ago, was drenched with water and blood. Runa could smell death from across the room, almost hidden by the water's stench. Her eyes stretched wide as she slowly made her way towards the young girl. She stared at the knife wounds on the girl's chest, neck, arms, and legs. She looked up at Aventus, and his hardened, tear-glazed eyes stared back.

Runa finally found her voice. "How…?"

Aventus could barely speak through his rage. "Don't know," he spat through gritted teeth. "I'll find who did this, and I'll _make_. _Them_. _Pay_."

The look in Aventus's eyes reminded her of the dark elf assassin. She blinked, looked at Lucia's still form, and made eye contact with Aventus again. "How?"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "I've made contact with the Dark Brotherhood before. I can do it again."

Runa regarded how his nails dug into the table, leaving dents in the wood. She thought back to the times when she saw Lucia and Aventus hug, how they would giggle in the middle of the nights and fall asleep side by side. She thought of the burning rage in his heart as he stared at the body of his best friend—the death of another person he loved. She tried to make eye contact with him again, but he was staring at his hands.

Her voice came out as a whisper. "Are you going to… going to join them?"

A smile, one hinging on insanity, spread across his features. "Of course."

"You've never killed anybody before, though!" Runa's voice came out louder than she meant to, and she quickly lowered it when Samuel shot her an odd look. "How would they accept you if you've only contacted them once? They probably don't remember you."

Some hidden emotion flashed across Aventus's face. "You don't need to worry about me, Runa. I can take care of myself." He looked up at her, gave her a soft smile, and let go of the table. "I doubt they would forget about a crazy kid contacting them to save other kids."

"That was five years ago. They could've a lot more contacts and forgotten about us—about you."

Something in his expression darkened. "If that's the case, I'll make them remember."

Runa held up her hands at his tone. "Look, I'm not trying to stop you. I just don't want you… contacting them and being disappointed."

"You don't know that. I wasn't disappointed before. I saved you all, too, so don't forget that." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Even if they don't remember. I have my ways, Runa. Stop trying to care about me. I can take care of myself."

She frowned, pushed herself away from Aventus and Lucia's body, and stalked out of Honorhall. She knew he was speaking through his grief, but his words still hurt. She knew she was no leader like Samuel, but she did try to take care of her fellow orphans as much as she could. After all, she had been there the longest. It was almost her duty to look after them, even if she could not claim she helped them. Samuel was the one with the sympathy; he had all the empathy. Runa kept her emotions bottled up and hidden away from the rest of the world. She felt weak if she express any emotion. She pushed down Aventus's hurtful words and wiped them from her mind.

She wandered around Riften's streets, walking through the market place sitting in the middle of the corrupted city. Damp leaves littered the streets, the only remains of last night's storm. She attempted to kick piles of them as she walked, earning looks of disgust and annoyance from ones who happened to be in her line of fire. A passing guard snapped at her to stop, and she ran out of the market place and towards stairs that lead to the shops down below the rest of the city. She thought about climbing to the lower docks, but she did not want to run into any thieves or lowlifes who happened to be out in the daytime. She gripped a portion of her skirt, realizing she had forgotten her dagger under her pillow. Her argument with Aventus had left her head clouded, even if she did not want to admit it. She thought about turning around and apologizing to him before time stretched on and made the apology useless. Instead, she carefully ran down the creaking stairs towards the lower docks, and continued her walk. She came to the edge of the docks and sat down, swinging her legs over the water. At her height, her toes barely touched the surface of the water, so she could swing her legs without much splashing. Runa sighed quietly as she looked out at the Rift, watching dragonflies flutter around and become the prey of swooping birds. She waited for the young orphan following her to appear by choice.

It took a while before Runa's shadow decided to reveal herself. Runa heard the small, unique steps of Sofie behind her as the young girl came to sit beside her. Runa kept her hazel gaze on the bugs and waves while Sofie shifted uneasily, shy about speaking and, perhaps, slightly awkward after the lack of reaction to her 'sudden' appearance. Patient as always, Runa allowed Sofie to gather up the courage to speak without any pressure.

"R-Runa, um…" Sofie began, staring down at the water below them. Runa turned her eyes towards the girl. "Aventus wants to—wants to join the Dar… Dark… the assassin group."

Runa felt some annoyance towards the boy for dragging sweet, little Sofie into his revenge plans. Feigning ignorance and hoping Aventus had given Sofie more information about his plans, she asked, "Really? He wants to join the Dark Brotherhood?" She made sure to keep her voice low. The walls, the water, the wood—all had ears.

Sofie nodded furiously. "He said that he's gonna get revenge. He wants to kill the person who killed Lucia." At this, Sofie looked up at Runa, her eyes tearful. "Will he be all right?"

Runa, taken aback by Sofie's real emotions, awkwardly pulled the smaller girl into a hug. Sofie collapsed into her, crying silently. Runa held on tightly, patting her back. "It's all right, Sofie. You're okay. You're safe."

"Lucia wasn't s-safe!" Sofie sobbed. "She's dead—dead! Murdered! Runa, I'm—I'm so scared. I don't wanna die!"

Runa had no comforting words for the crying girl, so she held her. She held her until Sofie cried herself into exhaustion and fell into a doze in her arms. As the sun set over the water, throwing shades of orange and reds over the source of life, Runa sat thinking. She thought of the living, breathing body of her friend sleeping near her, and she thought of Lucia's decaying, stiff body on their dining table. She remembered the rage Aventus held inside of him, and the revenge he promised he would give Lucia. She thought of her own apathy towards the dead orphan. She looked down at Sofie's soft, beautiful brown locks and sweet, peaceful face, her heart and chest aching with an emotion she could not remember feeling before at this intensity. It was light and made her feel weightless and giddy. She softly kissed Sofie's forehead, and the girl stirred awake.

Runa held Sofie's hand and helped her up before sweeping her off of her feet and holding her with one hand underneath the girl's knees and shoulders. Sofie giggled softly, and a rare smile ghosted across Runa's lips. She staggered slightly under the smaller girl's weight, but Runa was strong. She carefully strode up the stairs and towards Honorhall. At the entrance, Sofie wiggled out of Runa's grasp. They walked in together, side by side.

Lucia's body was gone; only a small blood stain and the stench remained. Runa positioned herself to shield Sofie from that reminder; the young girl was tired but happy, and Runa did not want that small, brief happiness to be extinguished so soon. Sofie stumbled slightly, so Runa took her hand and lead her to her bed in Grelod's old room. Being inside her tormentor's old room made her stomach churn with anxiety and her mind briefly clouded with memories of terror, but she pushed down her personal fears and tucked Sofie into bed. The other four bed inside were empty: Blaise had been adopted long ago, Lucia would need her bed no longer, and Alesan rarely returned to the orphanage at night, off discovering his likeness with the shadows. Runa remembered Aventus's claim to join the Brotherhood, and she wondered if he had run off, again; she had forgotten to check if his bed had an occupant. She turned to check on him, but Sofie grabbed her wrist.

"Stay with me?" she mumbled sleepily. "You're… you feel safe. You're safe."

Runa sat on the edge of Sofie's bed until the girl's grip loosened and succumbed to the call of sleep. Rising carefully, Runa quietly crept to Aventus's bed. He slept almost completely covered by his blankets that rose and fell with each breath. Runa surprised herself by feeling some sort of relief as she peered down at his sleeping form. Runa, truly, could not understand why he would put himself in harm's way for the sake of revenge of a loved one. He was young, barely sixteen, and had a mind clouded with grief. She believed running off without a well thought out plan would simply lead to his destruction. A couple heartbeats passed as Runa gazed down at the Imperial boy, orphaned by sickness. She wondered what his mother would have thought of his choices, and if he ever thought about her. Runa climbed into her bed with her thoughts passing to fading memories of Samuel's long-dead mother, the only woman Runa would not hesitant to call her caretaker. What would she think of the Runa of today?

When Runa awoke from her short sleep the next morning to Sofie snuggled in her bed, Aventus was gone. His sheets were neatly folded, and his bed was cold. A note lay under Runa's pillows, stabbed with the point of her dagger. Careful not to wake Sofie up, Runa slipped the note off of her weapon and unfolded it, using the faint dawn light to look at Aventus's scratchy, rushed handwriting. As she stared at the note, the meaningless letters yielded no secrets to her. She could not read.

She tucked the dagger into a homemade belt underneath her dress. She crawled carefully out of the bed, freezing when Sofie mumbled and rolled over in her sleep. Holding onto the note tightly, she crept out of Honorhall and walked towards the lonely graveyard. She dodged sleepy guards and yawning citizens, staying in the shadows, her eyes glittering in the growing light. Reaching the graveyard, she paused near a fresh, unmarked grave. A single blue mountain flower rested on the mound. Runa gently placed her hand on the mound for a moment, a strange yet quiet sadness inside her heart.

"Farewell," she whispered to Lucia, not really caring if her spirit would be listening.

With her note in hand, Runa walked towards the statue of Talos, sat down, and began her wait.


	4. Speaking with Silence

**7th of Second Seed, 4E 206**

Dawn was nearly over when leather-clad Alesan appeared in the graveyard, walking hurriedly along the worn, stone path. Runa, as patient as ever, waited in the shadows of the statue as he passed by her, not noticing her presence. She watched him, following him with her eyes, until his back foot was closest to her. In a flash, she grabbed his ankle and pulled him backwards. He yelped in surprised, barely saving his face from smashing into the ground. He pushed himself up and spun towards her with a flimsy iron dagger drawn, anger lighting up his features. He hesitated when he saw Runa's half-smiling face.

"You're able to read, right," she asked, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to speak, "and keep secrets?"

He paused, his mouth still halfway open with unused words. "…Yeah, but what's it to you?" he finally snapped, still slightly annoyed with his brush with the ground. He used his free hand to brush stray hairs out of his face.

Runa held out the slightly crumpled, folded note. "Aventus left this for me, but—"

"Can't read?" Alesan smirked, tucking his dagger into a sheath at his hip. "You're really not missing much, honest. Just informative books, interesting notes, secret diaries, signs that point the way so the wandering adventurer doesn't get lost—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm missing out in life. Please just—read it."

"A hush-hush note from Aventus himself. Got it." Alesan, almost gleefully, took the note from Runa's outstretched hand and unfolded it, his eyes skimming over the meaningless letters. "Well, he says that he loves you, and that he doesn't want you to—"

Runa snatched the note out of his hand. "Don't lie to me, you wannabe-thief. Tell me what he really said, or—"

"Hold on, wait." Alesan threw up his hands, his eyebrows raised in shock. He pointed at his chest. "You think I'm—I'm a 'wannabe' thief? I'll have you know, Runa, I am, in fact, a professional member of the Thieves Guild, right here, in Riften. So you can't tell me I'm a 'wannabe,' 'cause I am a professional."

Runa rolled her eyes and held out the note. "Read it, professional thief."

Alesan gave her a mock half-bow. "My pleasure." He snatched up the note again, speaking out loud as he read it. "'Dear Runa'—how sweet is that? He started it out with—"

"Alesan, I swear if you keep this up, I'm going to b—hit you until you wish you couldn't read." A faint, evil memory sparked in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away and focused on the present.

"Aw, Runa, you can't do that to me. I'll have all the thieves in every city running after you, and—okay, I'll start reading. Ahem. 'Dear Runa, I am not sure if you are able to read this. If you can read, or find someone to read this for you'—that's me, Alesan—'I want you to not look for me. I do not want to hurt you if you choose to run after me. If you do get hurt because you run after me, that will be your own fault. Do not try to come after me. No one knows where I am heading, and no one saw me sneak out. You will be lost in Skyrim without a lead, and you will end up dying in the wilds without a friend. Please, for the sake of the others who I know will not handle another death well, stay in Riften. You are not able to do this kind of work. Even if you did somehow manage to find the Dark Brotherhood, you would fail their test. Stay safe. Aventus.'"

Runa was fuming. She clenched her fists and looked up at the statue of Talos, the polished stone shining in the growing daylight. "I hate that stuck-up, no-good, little rat!" she snarled, punching the stone statue. The statue did not move and her hand came away throbbing. "Sure, he 'somehow' managed to summon the Brotherhood before, but that was back when we were desperate. And joining them? He's as stupid as a dog. He's going to get himself killed." She seethed, pacing back and forth in front of silent Alesan. Behind her anger for the harsh words Aventus left her was a plan, one that could come to light if she had the right pieces…

"Uh, Runa…" Runa snapped her head up at Alesan's unsure tone, her hazel eyes flashing with anger. He took a step back, making Runa blink, and her harsh eyes lessened. She turned her gaze to the ground and exhaled.

Looking back up at him, calmly, she asked, "Yes?"

Alesan shook the note. "All this… stuff he's saying about the Dark Brotherhood, he's not… lying, is he? I mean, did he really…?"

"Summon them? Yes. Did they go through with killing Grelod the Kind, caretaker—or, ex-caretaker—of Honorhall Orphanage, just like he asked? Yes. I saw the whole assassination, if you want the whole story."

Alesan stood, silent and dumbfounded. Runa managed to crack a small, thin smile at his confusion. She held out her hand for the note, snatching it from his hand when he did not move. She tucked it into an inside pocket of her dress, one Lucia had sewn for her.

"Are any of your fellow… professional thieves in contact with anyone in the Brotherhood?" Runa wondered. She figured that if anyone would have any contact with the shadowy assassins, it would be the others who made the shadows their home.

Alesan snapped back into reality, blinking twice. "I—I've never had to ask that. Thieves don't kill." He looked Runa directly in the eyes. "We may steal items, but we would never steal a life."

The way Alesan used a collective pronoun made Runa wince slightly. She opened her mouth to reply, but Alesan cut her off.

"What happened? I mean—what made Aventus run off?"

"You… wait." Alesan had not been back in the orphanage yesterday morning. "You don't know."

He shook his head, waiting for an explanation.

Runa sighed. "Lucia's dead. Murdered," she added. Alesan's eyes went wide; Runa absorbed that expression with pleasure. "Stabbed, or slashed to death by the looks of her wounds. Aventus—you know how much they loved each other—is chasing down her killer. He doesn't have any leads. I'm guessing he's trying to find her killer by joining the Dark Brotherhood."

"J-joining…?"

Runa shrugged. "Not the smartest decision, so that's why I'm going after him. If he's killed… I have the power to stop him, y'know? Keep him from dying."

A moment of silence passed as Alesan gazed at her with a knowing look. "Runa," Alesan placed a firm hand on her shoulder, looking deep into her eyes, "are you doing this because of that, or is this… a reason to get away? To leave Honorhall on a glorious mission to save a runaway orphan, who might not want to be saved?"

Stubborn doubt lodged her words in her throat, preventing her from speaking. All she could do was narrow her eyes and frown.

"Did you cry when you found Lucia was dead? Are you sad she's gone?"

Her eyes glancing away in silence gave him the answer.

He stepped back, releasing her shoulder, an odd expression of sadness and acceptance on his face. "You never really cared about any of the orphans, did you? Not Aventus, Samuel, Lucia, Sofie… or me."

She pushed aside her doubt, fear, and feeling of weakness, focusing on her irritation. "You can't accuse me of not caring. Where were you when Lucia died? Where did you go on the nights when Hroar cried the whole city awake? When Francois tried jumping off that bridge? What did you do to care about Sofie when someone stole her flowers? I bet that was one of your professional—"

"Don't turn this into something about me. I'm not the one who tries to control and hide everything about myself."

Runa scoffed. "You're never around. You can't tell me—"

"Just 'cause I'm not seen doesn't mean I'm not watching. If I'm not in our super-secret hideout, I'm hitting the streets. I notice things."

"You don't notice. I sat here for hours, and you didn't even see me."

Alesan gave her an odd look. "You cover your presence really well. I mean—really, really well. So well, it's almost like you were made for the shadows or something. I'm surprised you hadn't realized that. I've watched you before, and I've lost you because you didn't want to be seen. I wish I had that ease with stealth."

Despite all the annoyance Runa had in her tone and how she kept insulting the young Redguard thief, Alesan still praised her. Despite how she had not denied her disregard for him, he still looked in her the eyes and spoke as if nothing had changed. Perhaps nothing had, except the truth baring its teeth when shoved into the light. She allowed a not-quite smile to pull up her lips.

"Maybe I'll… teach you my secrets. One day," she said, barely believing her own ears. Alesan's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and some sort of happy emotion she could not name.

The light in his eyes dimmed suddenly. "You're leaving soon, though."

She nodded. "I'm going after…" Her words faltered briefly. "I'm going after Aventus."

Alesan clasped his hands together in front of him, making him look younger than he was. "Still need a guide?"

"Will you give me one?"

"I'll find one."

Alesan gestured for her to follow as he walked deeper into the graveyard, stopping beneath a stone alcove with a large grave and a diamond-shaped symbol engraved in the gray stone that was the same as the walls and floor. Alesan stopped before the grave and reached for the symbol, hesitating before touching the wooden circle in the diamond.

He turned towards Runa, uncertainty sparkling in his dark eyes. "You can keep secrets, too, I wager?"

"No one knows I saw Grelod assassinated with my own eyes. No one knows that the assassin gave me a dagger—"

He sucked in a sharp breath, lips parting as if he was about to speak. He shook his head, dark strands of hair escaping from his ponytail. "Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, half to himself. He pressed the wooden circle in the diamond.

To Runa's astonishment, the grave grinded back to reveal stairs leading to a hidden entrance. Alesan motioned for the Nord girl to walk down before him. She did so, hesitantly. She passed by a chain that Alesan pulled, plunging them into darkness as the grave rolled shut.

"Sorry about the darkness," he whispered, his voice echoing faintly. "There's a torch here, somewhere, but we forget to light it. No one really hangs around here long enough to need the light, anyway."

The suddenness of no light always made her wary, but she had no fear of darkness. She loved the night; she loved the stars; she loved the twin moons in the sky. Sometimes she would sit on top of the orphanage without sleep and watch the moons crawl across the sky, wishing to be free. Today, her wish would be granted by the ones living in the shadows.

Light pierced through the darkness, making Runa growl and shut her eyes. Alesan whispered an apology as she went to his side. They climbed down a ladder through the wooden trapdoor, closing it once they were in. Runa held her breath, trying to keep from breathing in the stench that rose from the sewer.

"You'll get used to the—" Alesan started to explain before snapping his mouth shut. He shook his head, tightened his ponytail, and headed towards the opening.

Runa scurried after him, her chest tight with anxiety as the realization if being in the heart of the Thieves Guild hit her. Storm drains spilled foul water into the center of the large room, a slimy pool underneath cross-shaped stone bridges catching most of it while splashed onto the outside stone paths. Runa attempted to dodge the disgusting puddles as she followed Alesan past beds lining the walls, some empty and some filled with snores. She noted the way his eyes darted frantically around the smelly room, and she knew that if she was caught, her life would be over. Without any proper training, her flimsy dagger against professional thieves would fail miserably.

They managed to sneak the rest of the way without any trouble. They stopped at a wall; Alesan slid his hand over an unseen trigger, and the false back of a cabinet glided to the side without a sound. He motioned for Runa to wait, and he opened the cabinet doors slowly, peeking out. Runa glanced around nervously when the Redguard disappeared behind the door, shutting them. She breathed slowly, in and out, to quell her rising panic. He would never leave her in the headquarters of his guild if he had no reason. Something must have come up when he checked to see if the coast was clear, and he knew revealing Runa, an outsider, would get her killed. Of course, if any of the thieves awoke and looked in her direction, she would be killed anyway. She could only trust he would not hurt his reputation by revealing the outsider he brought in to the other guild members.

Runa decided to duck inside of the cabinet, huddling inside of the deep shadows. She closed her eyes, reopening them with a start. Thieves were masters at stealth, so if she would most likely see them before she heard them. Focusing all her attention to her hearing would not be a wise choice; thieves might have a habit of walking lightly, but they would have no reason to hide in their putrid-smelling home. She stared out at the headquarters, her hand on the doors of the cabinet in case someone opened them. She hoped none could sense her fear over the sewer smell.

Moments passed—Runa had no sense of time in her fear—when a finely dressed Nord man with shoulder length red hair and a leather-clad Redguard woman with her black hair pulled out of her face walked towards the cabinet. Runa shoved herself as far back possible, begging any Divines or Daedric Princes out there to cover her with shadows and become one with the darkness. The two paused just before the cabinet, the redheaded Nord chuckling.

"The young lad must've forgotten to close the false back, again," he spoke with an odd sort of accent, one Runa had never heard before. She could not decide if she liked it or not.

The Redguard woman took the Nord's hand into her own, gazing at him with loving eyes. "You'll have to give him a little talking to, again. He's your apprentice, after all." As she spoke, she used her other hand to caress the Nord's cheek.

The Nord kissed the Redguard's fingers sweetly. "Aye, my love." He let go of her hand, stepping marginally to the side. "We mustn't be caught."

Before the Nord could open the cabinet doors, it swung open to reveal a slightly breathless Alesan. He looked at the Nord and Redguard with wide eyes; Runa could tell he was fighting back his panic at not seeing her. The two thieves looked back calmly, faint concern on the Nord's face while the Reguard woman's loving expression had changed to one of slight annoyance and apathy. The young boy almost seemed to shrivel underneath his fellow thieves' gazes.

"What's the hold up?" Another heavily foreign accent, one filled with animalistic growls and hisses, snapped the Nord man and Reguard woman's attention to someone behind them, one Runa could not see.

Alesan felt around the shadows, touching Runa's shoulder. She lifted her hand and grasped his hand, relief washing over his face. She let go and pushed herself deeper into the shadows, knowing that if she moved, she would be discovered.

"Move it, Brynjolf 'n' Tonilia, or this one might get some ideas about your—what do humans call it? Partnership?" A light humor danced over the words.

Brynjolf made an odd noise in the back of his throat while Tonilia's expression switched to anger, and she stomped through the cabinet, pushing Alesan out of the way. The young boy scrambled through the cabinet as Brynjolf was distracted by the accented thief that Runa could not see. She fell onto the ground as Alesan yanked her out of it, shutting the doors just as Brynjolf turned around. Grabbing Runa's hand, he pulled her to her feet—Runa momentarily marveled at his strength—and they stepped into another sewer more unkempt than the headquarters.

A rundown bar, manned by one Nord wiping the counter, stood to the right of the entrance, stocked with bottles and food. Tables and chairs littered the stones in front of the bar, empty and unused. Wooden docks floated over the smelly pool behind the tables, boxes and barrels stacked on them. Tonilia was walking towards the Nord man by the counter, and as he directed his attention to her, Alesan pulled Runa along the wall. They ducked into the first large alcove, bringing up dust and dirt as they hurried into it. Runa held her nose to stop herself from sneezing.

"Now we just have-ta make it look like I've just brought you in." Alesan started brushing off stray cobwebs out of Runa's hair and dress. He retightened his ponytail. "Let's—"

"This one thinks the little thief is not as crafty as he thinks."

The two orphans whirled around. At the entrance, a person stood. Runa could not believe her eyes. Before her stood some sort of human-animal hybrid wearing leather armor. Instead of a human face, it had a cat-like muzzle, mouth, and nose. Two, tufted ears came out of the top of its head, decorated with golden rings. Instead of skin, the creature had fur: dark brown fur with darker stripes. A striped tail swished from side to side lazily. Amber eyes, slitted like a cat's, flicked from Alesan to Runa, observing them with some sort of negative, unreadable emotion.

The cat-like creature took in Runa's dazed expression and smiled—if baring sharp, animal teeth counted as smiling. It raised its furred hands, sharp claws replacing nails. "This one thinks the little girl is afraid. Should this one kill the child while she shakes in fear?"

Alesan stepped in, standing slightly in front of Runa. "She's a friend. I won't let you kill her. Zavani-dar is a Khajiit," he added, explaining the odd humanoid creature. "Khajiit aren't allowed in the cities, so that's why you've never seen any. Most Nord—most humans don't like to talk about them. They think they're thieves… well, Zavani-dar isn't the best example, since he is one." Alesan chuckled nervously.

Zavani-dar lowered its claws with reluctance and flicked an ear, golden rings clinking. "This one does not enjoy having to hide under Riften. Zavani-dar wishes to steal freely, you know?"

Runa kept her bewildered expression, becoming more and more confused as the two spoke. She directed her question towards Alesan, uncomfortable with the unknown Khajiit creature. "Why does it—"

"He," the boy quickly corrected her.

"Why does he speak… like that?" Runa glanced over at Zavani-dar, shivering as his amber eyes watched them, unblinking. His tail flicked to the side at her question. Sharp teeth and claws flashed on the edge of her vision.

"He doesn't usually speak like that around newcomers. He likes to—"

"I can speak for myself." The voice that came out of Zavani-dar's cat-like mouth was one of a normal Imperial with a faint, strange lisp to it. Runa took a step back, unsure. Zavani-dar sighed. "Look, I know I'm strange. I understand you don't have much… experience with anyone outside of humans and elves. You've seen Argonians, correct?"

Runa, slowly, came out of her confusion. She nodded.

"This one feels… I feel like lizards are much stranger than cats, wouldn't you agree?" He showed her his fangs. "If you don't agree, I might need to kill you."

Alesan sent the Khajiit a glare. Runa found her voice. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to animals being humans."

Zavani-dar made a soft noise in his throat, a cross between a growl and something Runa could not name. He dropped his Imperial accent. "This one sort of understands. Now, how will this one deal with an outside in our midst?"

"Please," Alesan's voice dropped to a whisper, "can you pretend you saw us enter from the Ratway? We—Runa needs to see Delvin."

The Khajiit held the boy's gaze for a couple heartbeats. His ears turned towards the table area, and Runa could hear others talking, faintly. Alesan kept eye contact with the Khajiiti thief. With a heavy sigh, Zavani-dar stepped back and out of the way. "You owe Zavani-dar, little thief," he hisses softly, his slitted eyes boring into Alesan's.

The Redguard ducked his head in submission. "Of course. I promise. We can talk about your payment later."

"If the child—Runa was what you called her?—does anything to hurt the Guild, this one will kill her." Runa shivered as the Khajiit's claws glinted in the torchlight as he crossed his arms.

"I can keep secrets," she whispered. Why was this cat creature's threats making her so frightened?

Alesan wrapped his fingers around her wrist, gently, and they skirted out of the alcove with Zavani-dar watching their every step. Runa glanced back, finding the Khajiit still standing in front of the alcove with his arms crossed. Their gazes met, and his eyes narrowed. She mimicked him, feeling safer as the distance increased between them. She did not trust him, and he did not trust her.

"I promise, he's a nice guy. Very cheerful." Alesan was speaking. "I dunno why he didn't like you, though. Usually he's fine with people being scared of him—I think he likes it 'cause it makes him feel powerful. He's used to others not knowing what an actual Khajiit looks like."

Runa shrugged. "I don't care what he thinks of me. I'm not planning to stay here long, anyway." She lowered her voice to a murmur, not caring if Alesan heard her or not. "It's not like he'll be able to steal from me soon, anyway."

They arrived at one of the tables, and they sat. Runa put her hands in her lap and straightened her back, observing the thieves as they came and went as Alesan filled her in with information about the thieves she needed to know, nothing more. Tonilia walked past the two orphans, ignoring them, and sat down on one of the boxes on the wooden docks, nursing half a loaf of bread and a bottle of ale. When Runa glanced back at the alcove, Zavani-dar had disappeared. The Nord at the counter—Alesan called him Vekel the Man—swept at the perpetual dust and dirt around the empty room. Brynjolf reappeared by the false cabinet, heading towards Vekel; once he saw Alesan and Runa, he changed direction and sat down on the empty chair at their table. He leaned his elbows on the table, resting a hand under his chin.

"Who's this, lad?" he asked Alesan with his peculiar accent, one Runa was getting tired of hearing. She realized she hated any kind of non-Imperial or Nordic accent.

"Runa Fair-Shield. She's here for Delvin," he supplied.

Brynjolf raised as eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, taking his arms off the table. "Delvin, eh? What sort of lass needs to see an old man like that for?"

"Dark Brotherhood things."

Runa hissed a curse underneath her breath, her eyebrows furrowing as she glared into her lap. To her surprise, Brynjolf simply nodded and left their table, going to sit at the bar. She raised her glare from her lap to the boy next to her.

"Why'd you tell him?" she snapped, annoyed. "He didn't need to know."

The Redguard boy shrugged, much to Runa's displeasure, avoiding her eyes. "He's my mentor. If I want him to trust me, I don't hide things from him."

"You didn't tell him I've seen your—secret place."

"He didn't ask."

The two lapsed into silence as they waited. Soon, a balding Breton yawned his way out of a hidden area Runa had not noticed before—one filled with more beds. He yawned when he stopped at the entrance, glanced around the area through squinting eyes, and scratched his neck before shuffling towards Vekel. Before he could get too far, Alesan jumped out of his chair and intercepted the man. He gestured somewhat frantically towards Runa.

"We've got somethin' to talk to you about."

Delvin sighed, glanced longingly at the bar, and lumbered over to the empty chair, sitting down heavily. Runa stared at him incredulously, remembering how Alesan had spoken of Delvin in the highest regard and explained that he was one of most important members of the Thieves Guild. The Breton man she saw in front of her did not seem respectable in the slightest way. In fact, he looked and smelled as if he had never taken a bath in his life.

Delvin crossed his arms and looked expectantly at the two of them. When Runa kept staring and said nothing, he sighed. "Well, what do ya wanna talk 'bout?"

His odd accent, somewhat like Brynjolf's, made Runa close her eyes for a heartbeat in exasperation. Did all thieves have some sort of weird voice?

Alesan looked at Runa, and when she made no move to speak, he spoke for her. "Delvin, this is Runa Fair-Shield"—at the mention of her name, Delvin's eyebrows twitched upwards—"and she needs to contact the Dark Brotherhood."

"Hmm," Delvin hummed, looking Runa up and down. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, making Delvin chuckle softly. "Some backstory first. Where d'ya guys meet, Alesan?"

"Honorhall," Runa cut in, wanting this to be over with as soon as possible. She was not sure if she liked the way Delvin looked at her. "Alesan was living in Dawnstar for a while, and when Grelod was killed, he came down to the orphanage. I've been there my whole life," she added when Delvin opened his mouth to say something more. She wanted her information, and she wanted out. She needed to leave Riften as soon as possible. These thieves were getting on her nerves.

"You want to make… contact with the Brotherhood, is that it?"

"I want to know where they're located. Where they settle down when they're not killing anyone. My—never mind." She had no reason to tell Delvin of her supposed reason for needing to locate them.

Delvin uncrossed his arms and leaned on the table, causing Runa to lean further back in her chair to get away from him. "Who are ya killin'?"

"None of your business."

Runa's hazel gaze hardened into a glare, not blinking, as Delvin looked down on her. An odd grin ghosted across his face, and he leaned away from in with a small sigh. Runa kept her arms crossed and her gaze hard.

"Don't ya want to stay in Riften? You're safe here—safer than outside. Have you ever set foot outside and seen the horrors?"

"The dragons are gone. The war is at a ceasefire. All I have to fear is bandits and the wilds."

"Aye, sweetie, with that attitude you'll get killed in no time. Skyrim's wilds shouldn't be underestimated."

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Just tell me where they are, and I'll leave. I'm not part of"—she gestured around the room—"this. You don't need to care about me." She thought of Aventus, recognizing how closely her words echoed his.

Delvin shrugged. "It's your death, little orphan. Give me a moment."

He left the table, grabbed a bottle of ale from Vekel, greeted Brynjolf, and disappeared inside of the entrance towards the heart of the guild. A couple of tense moments passed before the smelly thief returned with a map and leather-bound book in hand. He sat down on the chair, accidentally hitting the edge of the table with his knee. He unfolded a gently used map of Skyrim, turning it so it faced Runa and Alesan.

"This is Morthal." Delvin tapped a tentacle symbol towards the top of Skyrim. "I've 'eard of some… odd things happenin' in that town. Might be a good spot to check." He moved his hand and tapped a deer symbol towards the very bottom of the map. "This is—"

"Wait," Runa interrupted, "what do you mean 'might be a good spot to check'? Don't you know where they are?"

Something flashed across Delvin's eyes as he stared at the map. "Not a clue," he said with a lie in his voice.

"You're lying."

Delvin's palm smacked the table heavily, making both orphans jump, and Brynjolf warily glanced towards them from the bar. "Look, little miss, the more you waste my time, the less I'll help you. Shut up and let me talk."

Runa pressed her lips together, annoyed. At least she received some information.

"This"—Delvin pointed at the deer symbol again—"is Falkreath. They have the biggest graveyard in all of Skyrim. Might be another good place." He shifted his finger towards a star symbol near Morthal. "This is Dawnstar. Cold. Winters aren't as harsh as Winterhold's, though, but similar. Have a history with Daedric Princes. I wouldn't check there unless I was desperate—like ya."

Runa nodded, absorbing everything. "Are you giving me this map?"

Delvin pushed it closer to her. "You look like ya need it."

Runa nodded her thanks and folded up the map, tucking it into the same pocket that held Aventus's note. Delvin slid the leather book towards her as well. She picked it up, slightly confused, and flicked through it, looking at the labeled pictures. She glanced up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's this?"

"Describes Shadowmarks. It's what us thieves use to identify houses we're able to steal from, what houses to avoid, and whatnot. Might come in handy for ya." The chair scraped back on the stone as Delvin stood. He tipped his head at her. "It was nice meeting ya, Miss Fair-Shield. Good luck on your journey. Alesan, be a kind gentleman, and escort the little miss out?"

The quiet Redguard shot up in haste. "Yes, sir!"

Runa glanced down at the unreadable book, and when she looked up, Delvin had disappeared. She sighed and stood up, tucking the book under her arm.

"Ratway?" she asked Alesan. He nodded somberly.

"I hate it with all my guts," he muttered, leading her past abandoned alcoves filled with dust, dirt, unused cobwebs, and forgotten boxes.

"Alesan!" Brynjolf's shout made the young boy spin around frantically. The Nord sat leisurely at the bar. "Come back quick, lad. We'll need to talk about having visitors over and the correct way to show them in."

Runa could sense Alesan's shame and embarrassment, swearing she could see his cheeks redden slightly; that, or the shadows, his dark skin, and the flickering torchlight played tricks on her eyes. He ducked his head, hurriedly opening the door to the Ratway. Runa followed without looking back.

The moment they reached the exit, Runa exhaled loudly. She hung onto the gate as it swung open with a deafening screech, panting.

"I'd—I'd never know—how _nice_ Riften smells until that—that experience," she huffed, pressing her cheek to the cool metal bars. Behind her, Alesan cackled in gasps, equaling breathless. They had held their breath and rushed through the maze of smelly stone sewers, attempting to keep their noses clear of the stench. Runa had thought the headquarters and bar smelt bad; now, she understood why Alesan had risked bringing her through the secret entrance. If she had been in his place, she would do the exact same thing.

"Now, I can't read this." She let go of the bars and retrieved the book Delvin gave her, unhooking it from the belt where she had shoved it. She held it out to Alesan.

He grabbed it, and without opening it, began speaking, "This is the symbol for the Guild. This means the place is as safe as the Flagon's cistern. If you see this—"

" _Show_ me the symbols." She paused. "Please."

Alesan made a show of rolling his eyes. He sauntered over to the edge of the dock towards the left of the Ratway entrance, and sat down with his legs hanging over the water. Runa joined him as he opened the book to the first page.

A sketchy drawing of a diamond with a circle in the middle of it was first, just like the one in the graveyard. "Symbol for the Guild," the Redguard explained. He pointed at the same symbol near the gate they had just burst out of as an example. He went through each symbol, describing the uses and giving Runa hints for discovering them. "Sometimes, there aren't any symbols near the doors. It can be anywhere outside the house, but hidden. Usually by the doors, though. Some houses don't have symbols, so you don't have to look too hard if you don't see one right away."

Runa smiled her thanks and took the book back, memorizing the order the shadowmarks were in the book. "Why'd Delvin give this to me?"

Alesan brushed a stray leaf off of his leather armor and stood up. "I dunno. Not my place to ask. He must've liked you or saw somethin' in you."

Runa hopped onto her feet with grace. "I'll be on my way, then. Thanks, Alesan. I owe you."

The boy gave her an endearing smile. "For my payment, just come and visit now and then, all right?" He stuck out his hand.

Runa reminisced their first meeting with soft eyes and took his hand. They shook for a couple of heartbeats, then Runa let go. "I'll see you again, Alesan."

She strode up the stairs towards the marketplace of Riften, her heart light. She had the information she needed. She had the Thieves Guild on her side, and at least one true friend in her heart. She thought of Sofie, and paused by Honorhall's door, wondering if she should step in and tell the younger Nord girl goodbye. Instead, she treaded towards the edge of the marketplace and bought a small sack of fruits and dried meat from Marise Aravel with the seven coins she had stolen from Grelod long ago. She tucked her book inside of the bag, hefted it over her shoulder, and began her journey towards the wilds of Skyrim. The guards watched her expedition towards the gate and opened the doors for her without a word. Runa hesitated before taking a step outside of Riften, glancing back at the corrupt city she had lived in her whole life.

"Missing Riften already, little one?" one of the guards asked sweetly with a light tone. "Want to come back?"

Runa turned away from Riften, Honorhall Orphanage, her fellow orphans, the Thieves Guild, and her only home. A rare, genuine smile pulled up her lips and reached all the way up to her eyes. "Nah. I'm just getting started."

When the gates shut behind her with a thud, young Runa felt free.


End file.
